1/10/2008

Because It Needs to Be Said (Regarding Ann Coulter's Dead Father):Let's keep this brief so as not to be too unseemly: in her latest column (if by "column," you mean, "a chronicle of internal damnation and derangement that makes Dante's Inferno seem like a perfectly nice way to spend a Saturday afternoon"), Ann Coulter mourns the death of her father by writing a brief biography of the man. Yes, it is sad to lose a parent, but, and it's gotta be said since Coulter celebrates her dad's accomplishments, this guy was a douchebag of the first order whose life explains a lot about Coulter's own insanity and cruelty.

You can read the whole bizarro thing, about how John Coulter judged Ann's dates, about how he shot squirrels in his backyard, about how he threatened his son if he took some fruity sociology course in college, about how he was a real-deal hunter of Soviet spies for the FBI, no doubt contributing to his daughter's perverse desire to fellate Joseph McCarthy's tibia. But most telling is Coulter's description of how her father helped break the Arizona Copper Mine Strike against Phelps Dodge in 1983. Scribbles Coulter, "In the early 1980s, as vice president and labor lawyer for Phelps Dodge copper company, Father broke a strike against the company, which culminated in the largest union decertification ever -- at that time and perhaps still. President Reagan had broken the air traffic controllers' strike in 1981. But unions recognized that it was the breaking of the Phelps Dodge strike a few years later that landed the greater blow." That included the eviction of striking families from company houses. The later decertification of the union is described by Coulter as a "happy ending." But, don't worry, because, as Coulter says, despite his hatred of unions, "he had more respect for genuine working men than anyone I've ever known." In other words, John Coulter huffed deeply from the crotch of J. Edgar Hoover's pantyhose, and he liked what he smelled.

The most fucked-up thing is that anyone normal reading this obituary would think, Christ, what an asshole. But Coulter's oblivious, and the joke's on her and on her father's corpse. Obviously, Coulter's life has been an attempt to live up to her father's legacy of paranoia and propping up of the powerful. But he at least walked the walk, motherfucker though he may have been. Coulter carries on his tradition by providing cover and comfort for savage conservatives, the rhetorical equivalent of a talking diaper, begging to be shit on. No man was good enough for Ann, according to Father, but she kept trying to please him by going after those fucking liberals, since there's no commies left. Alas, the entropy of hatreds, instilled by dear old Dad of the Greatest Generation.

Oh, tender eyes and ears, is this a bit cruel, to beat up on Ann Coulter when her father kicked less than a week ago? Then you didn't read Coulter's column to the last line, where she says, "Now Daddy is with Joe McCarthy and Ronald Reagan. I hope they stop laughing about the Reds long enough to talk to God about smiting some liberals for me." Tee-hee, it's a joke, innit? How Coulter wishes us all dead? The kind of thing that'd probably make the old man laugh. Fuck her and her brute of a father. He's in hell now, alongside Reagan and McCarthy, getting raped by barbed-dick demons with his daughter's face. Kind of like the rest of us.